"Now, I'm very curious how you'll achieve Rank 3 power, show me," Malek was excited to see what would happen. The calmness from Asta balanced his excitement out.
Taking the knee, Lucas tried to find the perfect position to diminish the recoil from his spell. Holding one arm out, he supported it with his other hand. Aiming it at the first spot, Asta let his aura go free as he focussed on the entire array.
"You'll listen to me and follow my instructions, understood?"
"Just so you know," Lucas muttered, eyes narrowing, "I can't redirect on a dime. You'll need to account for a delay."
"How much?"
"At least a second."
"Just a second?", Malek felt impressed by that, while Asta frowned slightly.
"Then don't make any mistakes. Start here.", Asta pointed towards the upper left corner on the left door. The rune he was pointing to was small, just a little too small for a standard Dark Beam.
Closing his eyes, Lucas envisioned his dome. Both halves of Lucas stared at the ceiling of the dome. The Scarlet Moon shone brightly. Soon, the walls of the dome tinted light red, showing memories that haunted him.
While one half felt angry at the scenes, he tried to keep his cool, while the other half noticed new images on the dome. The moment he met Marie during the final trial stood there under the tree. Lucas saw himself raise his arms. The emotions felt new, fresh, as if he was just standing there.
The visceral anger he felt boiled his blood to the point of steaming. Opening his eyes in the real world, he conjured his personal rune, letting it take control over his arms. Slowly, the blood in his veins started to pierce through his skin, leaving trails of crimson red. They didn't follow gravity, as the trails started to stream towards his outstretched hand.
The blood grew thicker, and as if an octopus fused with his blood, they resembled tentacles grasping his arm. The power started to coagulate towards his hand, which had lost most of its skin.
Malek stared in awe as he felt threatened. 'This is genuine. What the fuck is this?'
Asta knew what Lucas was capable off, but seeing it in person certainly was different. He felt an unknown pressure forcing him to perform even better. Turning around he awaited the moment the blast was released onto the rune.
Using the rune of suspension and fracture, Lucas felt the strain of keeping such power held back. One part of the rune instantly broke, letting part of the spell breach forward. A dark red beam shot out of his hand, hitting the rune Asta pointed at.
Under the massive pressure, the rune still held strong, but vibrated intensely, giving Asta room to quickly work at reconfiguring the entire array.
"Less power now!"
Lucas felt his hand burst into pieces as he tried to hold back some of the power. Malek who was simply watching on in amazement, stepped closer to heal his hand and supply him with the necessary mana to keep the spell active.
The three of them worked in tandem, sweat beading on their foreheads as not a single word was spoken. Occasionally, Asta pointed at a rune and yelled to change the power level, putting a massive strain on Lucas.
The plan only needed 5 minutes, but when counting, it felt like forever. Once Asta was done changing the array where necessary, Lucas was free to stop his spell. Sadly, the power contained within was impossible to control. "Shoot it up!", Asta yelled out the moment he saw the state Lucas was in.
Forcing his arm upwards, he let go of the fracturing and suspension rune, letting the upgraded Dark Beam fly right towards the sky. Blasting a massive hole in the ceiling, the clouds above held an artificial circular opening after the spell was done.
Peasants and mages all around Proktor saw the spell from afar and felt an instinctual fear warning them to stay away. A red beam that reached for the heavens above. A blasphemy for many, a sign of the end for others.
At the very center, a young man was flat on the ground as his arm was covered in blood. Skin tore open as tendons snapped loose. Malek took his time to heal the arm, but he never studied high level Light magic, neither did Lucas. So both had to work together to slowly repair his damaged arm.
Yet, the pain, blood loss and headache from abusing his personal rune were all shoved aside as he stared at Asta. "Did it work?"
Asta took out a small handkerchief to wipe the sweat away. Making sure he was cleaned up, he turned around with a big smile. "Of course. It's me who we're talking about."
Catching his breath, both Asta and Lucas needed a second to relax, yet both ignored their bodies for a single reason. "Then let's go inside."
Lucas dragged his body upright. Staring at the door, the massive array was still there, it didn't even look any different to Lucas. He kept his comments to himself as he waited for Asta to move.
"I was not able to destroy anything in the array, so I had to use a loophole in the array. According to the runes here, they mention that a certain mana signal has to be presented in order to open the door, a key, so to speak."
Asta was about to go into a full explanation but noticed the confused looks on both Malek and Lucas. Shaking his head slightly, Asta continued, "Fine, I was not able to remove the lock, but the runes that set up the key were still available. So I had to reactivate the runes that defined the key and put in my own mana signature."
"Meaning it'll open when you interact with it," Lucas concluded.
"Exactly."
Pressing his hands on both doors, Asta fused his mana into certain runes as the doors opened wide. The doors creaked yet gave off no magical signal, meaning they should've been safe.
Going inside they found a couple of books on pedestals. Asta moved with fervor in his steps, quickly glancing over the covers of the books before his face drooped into a frown containing disgust.
Lucas noticed his reaction and stopped in his tracks. "What's the issue?", spreading his willpower, Lucas checked for any irregularities in the environment, finding nothing of note.
"They're all books about elemental magic. What a waste of time and energy," grabbing his face Asta complained to show his disappointment.
Slacking a sigh of relief, Lucas ignored Asta's murmurs as he checked upon the books. Most were things he had no real expertise in, like taming circles, illusions, and high level healing. That didn't mean he gladly stole those books for later use. The one that instantly grabbed his attention, was a small book containing notes on how to create a plague.
A glint appeared in his eyes as he didn't understand any of the runes and explanations, but his heart felt excited to study it. Grabbing all that there was in the room, the group prepared themselves to leave.
They were behind schedule and Lucas had too many things to work on. Time didn't stop for anyone, so they quickened their pace.
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In a little forgotten shed in the middle of a normal village, a man was organizing some documents. The cobwebs in the corner had gathered dust, while the dead spider below had grown as dark as the rotten wood it laid on.
The chair creaked with any kind of movement while the table the man was working on was tinted dark brown. The paper was, in contrast to its environment, completely white, while the pen the man used was of the highest quality.
He dedicated himself to keeping things tidy and neat. From his writing style to his demeanor, all of it was calculated. Throughout his career, he had garnered a great reputation and achieved a high position as a secretary to a powerful commander.
Even if that was the case, barely anyone knew who he truly was, since he kept his personal and professional life strictly separated. When he worked with others or needed to be called, he always told others to call him the secretary.
After years of work, it had gotten to the point that people had forgotten what his actually name was as he became his function and his function became him. This allowed him a lot more freedom in certain places.
As he was writing some things down, a soft knock came on the shed's door. Had the visitor knocked any harder, the door might've come loose.
Placing his pen neatly next to the papers, the man stood up, his movements clean and practiced to perfection. Opening the door revealed a masked man. The light red of the mask certainly stood out, but neither acted surprised.
"When the Darkness rises," the visitor spoke.
"And the sun finally fades," the man continued.
"Heaven shall burn,"
"And paradise will be manifested."
A simple and effective code. The masked man nodded slightly before pulling out a small binder of documents. Handing it over without a word, the visitor left. The man closed the door and placed the binder on the dying table.
'If my people back home knew I would be dealing with the Demonic Cult, I would be crucified.'
Chuckling to himself, he opened the binder to find a few documents and a single letter.
'Finally, an answer from them.'
Ignoring the other precious intel, he opened the letter. It stated;
"Owing to unforeseen delays, our operations have fallen behind schedule. This, however, does not alter our course.
Your conduct thus far has demonstrated competence sufficient to warrant continued association. That said, do not mistake utility for inclusion. You are not, nor shall you be, privy to the full extent of our plans.
Our path remains unchanged, and we proceed toward our objective with or without interference. To advance with optimal precision, we require intelligence regarding the Southern Army's front. Supply all available information—unit composition, troop movements, command structure. Particular emphasis is to be placed on Rank's and chain of command.
You are not expected to act beyond this.
Deliver accordingly."
After finishing the letter, the man nodded to himself, though he did not know why. Perhaps he was glad that his failure in getting rid of Murph was glossed over.
This wasn't the first time communicating with this group of mages. While names were never given, the man was perfectly aware of who one of them was.
Appearing out of nowhere, a trio of mages destroyed camps and outposts without stopping. The man had kept his eyes on all sides of the war, not excluding a single front.
While he was working for the Western front, he had his worries tied to the Eastern front. The princess in the east simply gathered forces. To never use them would seem like a waste, and while her intentions were fine, the man didn't trust her completely.
To then find a group of mages weakening the border significantly, he knew he had to take investigate them.
'If they want intel on the border, will they move south and attack the princess's armies? That would be troublesome. They are weak as it is, why bother?'
Taking a map out of his pile of neatly arranged documents, he displayed it fully on the table. Seeing the marks where he had to act for the group and where the group eventually struck, rarely did they overlap.
The man knew quite well that his performance was being watched and evaluated, his work was for nothing. This did not matter to the man, for he saw the group as the key to his own designs.
Now that he needed to gather intel on the border, the man suddenly realized.
'They aren't after the south, but the west!', he was certain of his hypothesis. Looking at the outposts on the southern border, there weren't that many that actually mattered all that much. This was for a single reason, the south held no danger.
Why build a wall to fence off harmless opponents? There was no valuable intel to even give on the outposts. 'The only reason they mentioned the border is to give me a clear outline of their path. They need intel on the destination, not the path. They're testing me again? How troublesome.'
Writing down a list of things he needed, he felt nothing for the people he might have to sacrifice. All the outposts he helped ruin for no reason but to get their trust held no place in his heart.
'If these faithless heathens die due to their own incompetence, it will only help us.'
Realizing what he was doing, he got up from his chair and prostrated himself on the ground in front of a small figure on the ground. Closing his eyes he lifted his hands in prayer.
"Oh Goddess above, hear me now.
I know I have strayed from the path You set before us. And yet, in Your silence, we, the faithful, have shouldered the weight of Your mission.
Forgive me, for I have done what must not be done. I have interacted with the Demonic Cult, not out of desire, but out of necessity. Our cause deemed it necessary.
Should this defy Your will, then let the judgment fall upon me when my task is complete. I ask not for absolution now, only that You see the purpose behind the sin. I will exile myself after I have finished my task, to not stain the ground You have blessed."
Once the man was finished with his routinely prayer he opened his eyes only to see the little statue in front of him was glowing brightly. His eyes opened widely, as his heart skipped multiple beats. Standing there in complete silence as the man couldn't believe his eyes.
Eventually the statue's light dimmed until it turned back to its normal state. The man prostrated himself again, his resolve hardened. "Thank You, Goddess, for giving me a sign! I know what I am doing now will be in accordance to your will, a greater gift is not possible. Thank You, merciful One."
Staying in his position for a few more minutes to display his loyalty, he stood back up with a serious look. Turning back to the documents on the table, the man was not going to skimp on the details.
'Demon Archer, I've given you all the tools you'll need. Get rid of Rylo for me and all will be well.'
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